Daiaynou
by yodeladyhoo
Summary: To the winner the spoils go. Inspired by a portrait of Sarah by Lily-Fox on DeviantArt. Please go to my profile page for the direct link.


**Title:** Daiaynou

**Author:** Yodeladyhoo

**Summary:** One last thing before I close this chapter on my life…

**Genre:** Fantasy

**Pairings:** none

**Rating:** K

**disclaimer** (dĭs-klā'mər): noun

1. (law) a voluntary repudiation of a person's legal claim to something

2. denial of any connection with or knowledge of

**syn:** disavowal

c.1986, 2007 The Jim Henson Company.

LABYRINTH is a trademark of The Jim Henson Company.

Labyrinth characters c.1986 Labyrinth Enterprises.

All rights reserved, but not by me.

All rights are reserved, but not by me. This short essay is a work of fiction. Permission for the use of the non-original characters and references to classical pieces of literature has not been requested by the author or granted by the licensor. This short essay was written for your perusal and pleasure. No compensation, either financial or actual, has been collected or requested.

**Plea for Reason:** Inspired by a portrait of Sarah by Lily-Fox on DeviantArt. Please go to my profile page for the direct link.

* * *

It would have been enough. 

Had she gotten through the Labyrinth without any help, it would have been enough.

However, not only did she have help, she made friends; loyal friends who have promised to be there when she needed them.

Had she passed through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, it would have been enough.

Not only did she get through without being hurt, there were plenty of opportunities for the worst to have occurred.

Had she only returned with her baby brother, it would have been enough.

She not only brought back her baby brother, but also found out what was really important in life. She brought back with her self-confidence, maturity.

But, no. Someone thought that it wasn't enough. Someone thought that Sarah Williams needed a trophy.

So there it lies, sprawled out on her bed like some obscene big-game hunting prize. Sarah would have shivered in macabre fear if she wasn't already paralyzed with fright. Carefully, she stepped into her room, closing the door behind her to ensure privacy; she gave her bed wide berth as she made her way to the dressing table that doubled as her workspace to put her bookbag down. Now that her shoulders and arms were free of their burden, they hunched forward in an effort to protect herself. Curiosity got the better part of her; it always did, as she reached towards the grotesque mask that rested just beneath her blue plush dinosaur.

Her fingers wrapped around the hooked appendage of the costume. What seemed to be old, dry beak was nothing more than paper maché. What seemed so life-like in the dimness of filtered light within the catacombs was actually flimsy in the light of the filtered, afternoon sun. Emboldened, the rest of the costume was lifted for inspection. The weight was not balanced properly and it felt heavy in her hands. Her palms encountered coarse burlap as well as worsted wool. A floppy, brown hat with feathers and a tiny skull faced her disbelieving expression.

Who would have sent this? Why would they have sent it? Unanswerable questions, or questions that she didn't want to know the answers to; she was unsure which of the two it was.

Unguided, and unassisted, Sarah placed the crown upon her head. Her hands pulled and smoothed the wrappings around her shoulders as she turned to face the mirror. Posing, she lifted her chin and pulled back her shoulders in imitation of the last person she had seen making this charade. She wore the haughty, arrogant expression with the same uneasiness as the cloak that encompassed her. Dropping the façade, her shoulders drooped as she smiled at her reflection.

With a sigh, she removed the vulture-faced, beggars costume from her shoulders. Folding it as neatly as possible, she placed it at the end of her bed. A small smile played along her lips as her fingers toyed with the miniature skull, followed by a caress of the long, brown speckled feathers. She turned to sit at her desk before she pulled out the books that she would need for her homework. Geometry, to start with, followed by The Canterbury Tales.

Something else to put in the box going up to the attic.

* * *

**Author's Note:** For those who recognize the title, yes, I know I'm being irreverent. I don't think my muse minds it and I find it oddly appropriate. If you find it offensive, I apologize. 

I've done it for you. Now, please return the favor. Review. Thank you.


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